


Sing Into My Mouth

by cumberhardhiddlesbitch



Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [8]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Hotel Sex, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberhardhiddlesbitch/pseuds/cumberhardhiddlesbitch
Summary: Benedict visits Tom in Pittsburgh.





	Sing Into My Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> TW for disordered eating related to actors maintaining a not-natural-for-them weight for a role.

Tom was toweling his hair dry when the door intercom buzzed. He hurried to the little box.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, I got in early.” Ben’s voice was distorted but still unmistakably him. 

“I’ll ring you in, do you need help with your bags?” Tom looked around for a shirt, but didn’t see any out in the living area.

“No, I’ve just got the one. Just buzz me in.”

Tom listened for the sound of the elevator, jumping anyway when he heard it arrive outside his door. He opened the door before Ben could knock, finding him there with his hand raised, backpack slung over his shoulder.

Tom reached out and pulled him into the flat, embracing him before he could even close the door. He was used to not being able to see eye to eye with Ben when they were stood close to one another, and now with Ben wearing shoes and him in bare feet he simply pressed the side of his face to Ben’s chest, leaning there for as long as Ben kept his arms tight around his back.

Eventually Ben stepped back and lowered his pack to the floor.

“You packed light,” Tom said.

Ben shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on going out, really.” His smile seemed cautious.

“Fair enough.” Tom reached out for the bag and took it into the bedroom, Ben following him. Ben sat down on the edge of the bed, his forearms braced on his legs. “Are you hungry?”

Ben shook his head. “I’m alright. Probably will be once I figure out what time it is.”

“It’s about three in the afternoon.”

Ben rubbed his hand over his face as he thought for a moment. “I had something around noon, I guess it was, in Chicago.”

“Alright.” Tom felt his back stiffen as he prepared to tell Ben about the slight change in plans, wondered when he’d become so apprehensive. “I’m done for the day, but I need to go in tomorrow morning.”

Ben looked up at him. “I suppose they had to do without you last weekend. Makes sense you’d be called in now.” 

Tom took a breath, carefully looking at Ben and not away from him in frustration as he wanted to do. “We weren’t doing exteriors last week, so this wouldn’t have come up.”

Ben shrugged. “How was it? How was New York?” He paused, and when Tom didn’t answer right away he asked again. “How was your,” he trailed off.

Tom had the feeling Ben had stopped himself just in time. “My what?”

“Your mini-break.” Ben managed to look both challenging and innocent at the same time, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It was fine.” Tom sighed, wishing he could just tell Ben the truth, then decided, in that second, that he would. Otherwise, the entire set-up was going to be intolerable. “It was really good, actually. Went to the Met one day, stayed in a flat nearby. The landlady was barmy but it was a nice place.”

“Did you cheat?” Ben asked so casually that it threw Tom for a moment. “On your diet?”

“Once. No, twice. Other than that she was ok with cooking at the flat.” Tom found himself increasingly uncomfortable with how long Ben was staying on the topic of his time with Shannon. He turned to the dresser, looking for a t-shirt.

“Tavern on the Green?” Ben’s voice was still even, pleasantly neutral. 

“It’s closed,” Tom said, pulling a shirt on over his head. “Has been for a couple of years. We went to the Gramercy Tavern.”

Ben nodded and leaned back on the bed, kicking his shoes off as he arranged himself so he was lying down on top of the covers. Tom found himself standing at the opposite side of the bed, pausing for a moment before he did the same, lying next to Ben without touching him.

“I don’t suppose there’s much to tempt you in Pittsburgh,” Ben said.

Tom’s laugh was short, the sound caught in his throat. “After weeks of being on chicken and veg I’d be tempted by just about anything, food-wise. If you want to go out, we’ll go out, but it’s going to be a let-down after London. I’m afraid that the main attraction around here is me.”

Ben suddenly turned towards him, rolling half on top of him, tightening an arm around his shoulders as he rested his forehead on the pillow next to Tom’s head. Tom lifted his hand and rested it in the middle of Ben’s back, rubbing slow circles against his shirt.

“That’s more than enough,” Ben said, turning his head to kiss Tom’s cheek. 

Tom coaxed Ben to lie on top of him more evenly, his arms and knees taking most of his weight. When Ben finally kissed him it was with a sudden sharp press of his tongue, their teeth clicking together for a moment. Tom held Ben’s lower lip in his teeth, pulling back as he scraped against his skin. Tom kept him there for a moment, then let go, watching as Ben licked at his lip. 

“God, it’s good to see you again,” Tom said.

Ben closed his eyes and leaned forward, his head resting on Tom’s shoulder. “I was afraid you might not want me here.”

Tom rested his hand on Ben’s back, clearly letting him know that he had been heard, even as Tom wasn’t sure of what to say to that.

“Why?” He gently rolled Ben to one side, so they were lying against the pillows, face to face.

“You’re working, and you already took one weekend away. I was afraid that I was too insistent about coming over.”

“I wanted to see you. I wouldn’t have said yes if it was going to jeopardize my job. I know that sounds horrible but you know I’d do the same for you.”

“And I sort of thought you might have had such a good time with Shannon that you would start rethinking the wisdom of being with me.” Ben managed to deliver those words with a straight face and a steady voice, but Tom could feel the tension in his body.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, of course, seriously,” Ben said, moving away from him. “You wouldn’t have to be concerned about her effect on your career, not to mention that she’s new without any baggage at all.”

Tom took a deep breath, deciding where to put himself. The thought of rolling over onto Ben and holding his hands down over his head was tempting, and it was, historically, as good a way as any to get him to listen, but potentially a wrong move here.

“I’m sure she’s got plenty,” Tom said. “As for the rest, I’m not concerned about your effect on my career.” He turned his head to see if Ben was listening.

“Then that makes one of us,” Ben said.

“Being wary and cautious isn’t the same as being worried,” Tom said.

“You’re wary and cautious because you’re worried.” Ben held his gaze, challenging him.

Tom sighed and sat up. “I’m not giving up on you over all that.” Ben’s subtle nod was as good as he could hope for.

They both jumped when the front door of the flat slammed. Tom quickly recognized familiar sounds--Joel throwing his keys on to the table by the door, the steps into the kitchen and the tap running at full bore to get the taste of the pipes out before he got himself a glass of water.

“It’s just Joel,” Tom said.

“Great, so I guess I’m just hiding in here until he leaves so you can sneak me off to a hotel.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned back, unable to look at Ben for the moment. “At the time that we made this plan, I didn’t know Joel that well. Also, I’m going with you, it’s not like I’m stashing you there. Besides, I’m going to guess that in the end you’ll be far more comfortable for being at a hotel instead of a shared flat.”

When he finally looked at Ben, he seemed to have softened, finally. “Well, Joel will be, anyway.”

“Quite so.” Tom rolled out his shoulders, listening as Joel obviously threw himself on the sofa, groaning as he put his feet up on the ottoman. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Ben took a moment to straighten himself as Tom put on his clothes, grabbing the overnight bag he’d packed earlier as Ben picked up his pack.

“So, we’re leaving, now?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. The hotel is across the river. We’ll take a cab.”

“Ok.” He smoothed his clothes down one more time, pulling on the edge of his jacket.

Tom opened the bedroom door and walked out into the living room. Joel barely lifted his head from the back of the sofa.

“Hey, I didn’t realize you were home, thought you were already out with your friend.”

“No, he met me here.” Tom stepped aside so Ben could join him. “Joel Edgerton, Benedict Cumberbatch.”

Joel lifted his hand in greeting. He had the white paperboard container that their meals always came in open on his lap and had clearly been in the midst of eating when they walked out.

“Can you forgive me for not getting up?” he asked.

“Sure, of course,” Ben said, but Tom saw the awkward shift of his feet, the way he’d been about to step forward and then stopped himself.

“Tom, your food is in the fridge. I met the guy on the stairs.”

“Thanks. The usual?” Tom looked down at Joel’s food, mostly white and green.

“They did something to the chicken, it’s not as rubbery as usual.” He yawned. “Sorry, it’s probably good that you’re going out, I’m fucking useless right now.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow I’m sure,” Tom said. “You have the weekend off?”

“For now, unless something comes up.” 

“Good.” Tom could feel Ben shifting beside him. “Well, we’re off.”

Joel gave them a half wave as he started gathering up another fork full of food. “Do they know where to get you tomorrow?”

“I’m going to just come here,” Tom said, “cab it over in the morning, so there’s no confusion.”

Joel paused and looked him right in the face for one moment. “Probably a good idea.”

“Yeah. Well, goodnight.” Tom went to the fridge to grab his food while Ben followed him.

“Night. Have a good weekend if I don’t see you around. Ben, nice meeting you, sorry I’m not better company.”

“It’s fine,” Ben said. “Good night.”

Ben finally began to relax when they were in the lift. “Did Joel have any idea who you were seeing this weekend?”

Tom shrugged. “I told him a friend, and he didn’t ask, I didn’t volunteer. We get on but there’s not much left at the end of the day in terms of conversation that isn’t about this film.”

“He didn’t seem to care.”

“He’s too exhausted to care.” Tom walked out of the lift at the ground floor, pleased to see that there was already a taxi in the taxi rank outside the building.

“What about you?” Ben asked after they were settled in the car. “Are you that exhausted? Should I even be here?”

Tom laid his hand on Ben’s knee. “I’m so relieved to see you. If you weren’t here I’d be giving up my energy to worrying about you or thinking about you anyway. And Joel has it bad. He’s playing catch-up. I knew what I was in for and I was ready to go when I got here.”

“Ok.” Ben put his hand over Tom’s, and Tom turned his wrist so his hand was palm-up, fitting neatly into Ben’s hand. “Nice humble-brag, by the way.”

Tom eased his hand out of Ben’s and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, grinning as he pulled him close, the seatbelts be damned. “Nothing humble about it.” He squeezed hard, pushing it to just the right side of too much.

“Alright, point made,” Ben said, leaning against him, almost limp.

At the hotel Ben sat on a sofa in the lobby, pretending to be interested in a brochure while Tom checked them in. Tom walked over to him quietly, flicking the paper so that Ben jumped.

“You were actually reading that. What is it?”

Ben held out the central photo. “Penguin encounter at the National Aviary.” He took it back, looking at it for a moment before folding the brochure and sticking it in his pocket. Tom found he couldn’t tell if Ben was having him on or not.

“Are you seriously interested in a penguin encounter?”

Ben shrugged. “I’ve got to do something while you’re gone tomorrow.”

“Right.” Tom took Ben’s bag as they headed to the elevator. “Take lots of pictures.”

Ben’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the corners of his mouth turning down, clearly trying to hold in a laugh. “I plan on it.”

“Now I’m going to be really disappointed if you don’t do it,” Tom said as they walked to their room. 

“And jealous if I do,” Ben said. “Really though for me there is no downside.”

The room was a perfectly unassuming square of bland carpet and furnishings, white linens on the bed. Ben set his pack on the dresser and stood in between the two beds while Tom stuck his box of food into the refrigerator.

“Two beds?” Ben asked.

Tom nodded. “Bigger room, and this way even if we wreck one we’ve got a comfortable place to sleep tonight.”

“If?” Ben’s smile was crooked.

“Just trying to be polite,” Tom said. “I’m a gentleman. Wouldn’t want to presume.”

In one step Ben had closed the space between them and was pressed against his chest, head leaning on his shoulder. Tom wrapped his arms around Ben’s back, surprised for a moment, as he always was, how much smaller Ben could seem at times.

“Don’t be polite,” Ben said, almost a whisper, lips at the junction of his t-shirt and neck.

“Alright.” The words were an obvious entree to some ribald comment but he held back, something in Ben’s tone not inviting a light comment. He just held him, waiting for whatever it was he really wanted to say.

“I’ve been so afraid you wouldn’t want me any more,” Ben said, standing up as Tom straightened his shoulders.

Tom held on to Ben’s upper arm, unable to let go in the face of that comment, but not ready to respond, the words forming slowly in his mind. Despite having had a certain arrangement with Ben for over two years, they were really a day younger, as a couple, than him and Shannon, and he wouldn’t offer Shannon the type of reassurance, in these early days, that Ben was clearly looking for.

“I do want you. Very much,” he finally said. It was the truth, simple, but not what Ben was wanting to hear, and his miniscule flinch, the tilt of his head and the dip of his shoulder, gave him away. Tom gently but firmly led Ben to the edge of the bed and sat him down, considered for a moment standing above him but on second thought took a seat on the bed just opposite him.

“Do you not think this is how I felt every time you dated a woman?” Tom asked. The question was out of his mouth before he could even think about it, the truth of it hitting him after he’d already spoken. In the two years they’d been together Ben and he had always framed it as something that would not stand in the way of a permanent relationship with anyone else, particularly, in regards to Ben, with a woman. Tom had told him that he was fine with that, even rooted for Ben to find the wife he had said he longed for, but in retrospect there had been a feeling of impending loss every time Ben had dated a woman, however briefly. 

“We were different then,” Ben said.

“Yeah, we were, and we’ve been like this for about a month, Ben. You’ve got to give me some credit. I don’t start things just for kicks but I can’t promise you it’s going to work, and you told me you were ok with that.”

Ben sighed deeply. “I am ok with that.” He shrugged. “Anything else would just be stupid.”

“Wouldn’t be honest, anyway.” 

Ben nodded. “I’m not saying it was right. It’s just how I felt.”

“Ok.” Tom cleared his throat. “You seeing anyone since the last time I saw you?”

Ben shook his head. “Is that a subtle reminder that I’m being a hypocrite?”

“No, I don’t do subtle.” Tom held his gaze, nothing about his tone or posture suggesting a joke.

“I’m not seeing anyone else. I do remember that I can, I don’t need to be reminded.”

“I wasn’t reminding you, I was really asking.”

Ben nodded, stretching his legs out until his feet were nearly touching Tom’s. “Is Shannon seeing anyone else?”

Tom took a slow deep breath, not quite a sigh. “Why do you ask?”

“I think it’s a reasonable question, how many partners does my partner’s partner have?”

Tom searched his face for a moment, but couldn’t argue. “She’s not.”

“And because you are my partner, and I think I should be allowed to know, what have you promised her?”

Tom pressed his molars together in annoyance, but had to admit that Ben had a point. It would make no sense for him not to be able to know. “The same thing I’ve promised you. That I’m going to do my best to be a good partner to you. That I won’t be jealous if you take another partner yourself. That’s all.”

“Ok.” Ben stood up, stretching his arms over his head, and for a moment Tom could see the miles on him. “Thank you.”

Tom nodded, suddenly drained. He reached out his hand as Ben walked past him to the washroom and Ben took it, squeezing for a moment.

“One more question, the last I’ll ask about her. Or the last I plan to anyway.”

“Go ahead.”

“Is she kinky?”

Tom held on to his hand. “I’m not sure.”

Ben turned his head away as he nodded, hiding his face. “Alright.” He let go of Tom’s hand, walking into the washroom. “I’m going to take a shower.” At the door he did turn around. “You can join me if you like.”

Tom smiled, unable not to anticipate a warm, wet, pliant Ben in his near future. “I’ll give you a moment to get started.”

“Right.” Ben smiled at him over his shoulder, heading into the washroom.

Tom looked around the hotel room, kicking his shoes off and nudging them just under the bed closest to the door. He shed his clothes, hanging his jacket in the closet and throwing his trousers and shirt over a hanger as well, all the while listening to Ben’s clothes hitting the floor in the bathroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed as he took his socks off, leaning back, a bit too cold now that he was only in his pants. He looked at the thermostat, considering, then left it where it was. 

He opened his backpack and pulled out the box of condoms, ripping it open and pulling out a strip of three, separating them before he set them on the table between the beds. He reached into the bag again looking for the bottle of lube, digging down through his hastily packed clothes and toiletries until his fingers finally hit it. He set it on the bedside table and went into the washroom, stripping off his pants as he stood in the already steamy air.

“Were you cold, Benny?” he asked as he tossed his pants into the corner.

“A bit,” Ben replied. “I can turn it down if you want.”

“No, it’s fine.” Tom let himself into the tub from the far end, warmed by the steam. Ben was thinner than when he’d last seen him, the usually lush curve of his arse diminished, his hips more prominent than Tom had ever seen them. Tom stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Ben’s chest, holding his arms down by his sides as he ran his hands over Ben’s chest. He let his fingers linger along Ben’s ribs, then turned him around.

“It’s for a film,” Ben said. “Well, mostly. They wanted me lean for Sherlock and now I’m supposed to be downright gaunt for Third Star.”

“Do you have to do more?” He turned his hands over so his knuckles were running over Ben’s ribs, feeling each bump. 

“No, this should do it.” Ben sighed. “I might be a little touchier than usual, I have to admit.”

“Is it hunger?”

“Hunger, at times, but also thinking about how I have to be stood here before you looking like actual death and you look like,” Ben trailed off, then lifted his hand to Tom’s upper arm, following the path of the water with his fingertips, tracing around his muscle.

“You don’t look like actual death, you look like romantic cinematic death,” Tom said. “And before you get too jealous, I only look like this thanks to the fact that I’m getting paid to workout. Please be assured that I hurt everywhere.” 

Ben smiled, then started to look down, actively suppressing a giggle.

“Does my discomfort amuse you that much?” Tom asked.

“No, I was just thinking, on the way here I was thinking about you, wondering what you might want to do to me.” Ben licked his lips. “Now I’m just hoping you haven’t taken any inspiration from your work.”

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, but then Tom was laughing, his head thrown back. “You’d safeword me after two burpees,” Tom said. 

“In the state that I’m in now, sure,” Ben said. “Are you sure personal trainers aren’t sadists though?” 

“You almost figure they’d have to be,” Tom said. “But no, I don’t want to think about it. And I don’t want you to hurt the way I am now.” He slid his hand up towards Ben’s nipple, pinching it firmly, watching as Ben’s mouth fell open, his eyelids growing suddenly heavier. “That’s not to say that I don’t want to hurt you.”

Ben smiled as he let his eyes close entirely. “I was counting on it.”

Tom let go of Ben’s nipples, dragged his thumbs over them as he brought his hands down to Ben’s hips. “Good.” He held on tight while Ben shivered. “Not in here though,” he clarified. Tom reached out for the little bottle of body wash the hotel provided, popped the top and sniffed. It was something light, more citrus than floral. He poured a generous amount into his hands and worked them together, then rubbed the foam over Ben’s shoulders. 

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” Ben turned around and Tom took the hint, washing his back, one hand on Ben’s hip as he slid his soapy hand through Ben’s crack, smiling to himself as Ben squirmed, obviously trying to hold himself still as Tom reached forward, gently swirling his fingertips against Ben’s taint, soaping up the gather of skin where his sac started. Ben huffed a harsh breath as Tom took his hand away, and let himself be turned around so his back was to the spray again.

“Better rinse yourself off,” Tom said. 

Ben leaned his head against Tom’s chest as he leaned forward, reaching back to hold himself open. Tom reached over for the conditioner bottle and helped himself to a generous amount, working it in his hand until it wasn’t frigid any longer then grasping the base of Ben’s cock. He held Ben loosely, his thumb working up over the top of him and pressing into the neatly clipped hair.

“Are you conditioning my pubes?” Ben asked. 

“Why not?” Tom asked, pressing harder for a moment before tightening the circle of his fingers and stripping them down the length of Ben’s cock, feeling him fill and warm under his hand.

Ben’s eyes fluttered shut, then flew open as Tom took his hand away. “Better rinse that off too, before it itches.”

Ben turned around, looking at Tom over his shoulder. “I thought you weren’t going to hurt me in the shower,” he said, clearly sensitive as he rinsed himself off.

“Never said I wasn’t going to make you uncomfortable.” Tom grinned as Ben turned around, knowing very well that he looked as predatory as he felt, Ben’s needy red cock a bright contrast against his pale skin. “Finish up and meet me out there,” Tom said. 

He took a towel with him and dried off, then turned the bed down and sat on the edge of the mattress. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself. It had been a fairly mad dash from work to the flat, back out to the hotel, and he’d barely gotten used to the idea that Ben was there, close enough to touch, much less scene with. As he listened to Ben turning off the taps he realized he didn’t even know what Ben’s limits were at the moment. Tom kept his eyes closed, simply waiting, until he heard the washroom door open.

Ben had wrapped a towel around his waist and he kept one hand there, holding it shut.

“Lose the towel, Ben. I’ve only got a couple of days with you, I want to see everything.” 

Ben let go of the towel and tossed it in the general direction of the washroom door, his cheeks flushed as he turned back to Tom. 

“Better,” Tom said. He looked at the empty space on the bed next to him. “Come here.” 

Ben sat down next to him and almost immediately leaned against Tom’s shoulder. Tom put an arm around his back, reaching up to run his fingers through Ben’s damp hair.

“Where can I leave marks on you?” he asked, smiling to himself as Ben shivered.

“Nowhere, I’m afraid,” Ben said. “I’m still on the hook for reshoots and there’s a swimming scene.”

“Nowhere, though,” Tom said, testing him, his hand skimming down Ben’s back to rest against his arse.

“You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do.” There was always the chance that some assistant or coworker would see the marks and have more questions than was convenient. “You still on the hook for post?”

“That too.” Somehow Tom could tell from Ben’s voice that his eyes were closed. 

“That’s ok.” He stood up, turning to face Ben and grasped his chin gently. “We’ll get you where you need to go.” 

Ben looked up at him, then closed his eyes again, resting his head heavily against Tom’s hand. Tom stroked along his jaw and down his neck, grasping his shoulder, then pushing him back towards the bed. Ben let himself be led, and rolled over without any resistance when Tom guided him, resting his head on his folded arms.

Tom looked down at him. The lack of any kind of resistance gave him nothing to push back on, and without being able to strike him with any kind of implement or even very hard with his own hands he was left without his usual ways of pushing Ben into a reaction. Tom held still for a moment, feeling uncalibrated, totally unable to tell if Ben had begun to sink down into what he needed simply by virtue of Tom’s presence or if it was more that he was waiting for Tom to give him what he needed.

The sight of Ben stretched out on the bed was tempting, even with the questions running through Tom's mind. He reached out, pressing his hand against Ben's lower back, running his palm over the curve of Ben's arse, lingering at the soft skin where his thigh started.

Ben deepened the curve of his back and canted his hips forward, lifting the curve of his bum higher. Tom smacked the fullest part of the curve, watching as Ben drew his knees up, lifting himself higher and swaying his hips lightly from side to side.

“Oh, you think you want this,” Tom said.

Ben looked at him over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. “Prove me wrong.”

Tom smacked the side of Ben’s arse, then the outside of his thigh. “Turn yourself so you’re facing the middle of the bed.” Tom couldn’t see trying to straddle Ben’s legs to get a good angle for both sides.

Ben snagged a pillow but otherwise followed Tom’s instructions without embellishment. 

Tom planted his feet and reached out to caress the side of Ben’s arse, getting a good feel for how far he’d have to reach. He shifted and tapped his hand against Ben’s thigh, a warning and a kindness that he didn’t really need before the first blow landed, a slap so hard it stung Tom’s hand, Ben’s skin turning red even as Tom drew his hand away, letting his fingertips scratch against the warm flush he’d left there. He covered each of Ben’s buttocks with fast hard slaps, lingering at times, pausing until he saw the tension build up in Ben’s lower back, then starting again. Ben was breathing hard, almost panting when Tom stepped back, his own breath barely under control. He stood to the side, delivered a sharp hard slap to the back of each thigh, then higher, the soft lined skin where buttock met thigh looking tender before Tom had even struck it. Ben whimpered and Tom struck him one more time, softer, but letting his hand press into the flesh, fingers wrapping around to press on his taint, grasping him tight, the hot pink skin tightening under the heel of his hand. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous Benny,” Tom said, reaching with his free hand to skim his fingers over Ben’s sac, then tracing up the curve of his cock. He almost groaned out loud at how needy Ben felt, his foreskin already tight and retracted, a generous bead of moisture gathered at his tip. Tom swiped his fingers over Ben’s slit then used his other hand to hold Ben open, bringing the drop of Ben’s own slick to his hole. Once he brushed his finger over the puckered skin there was barely even any dampness left but he pressed his fingertip against it anyway, testing, his own cock throbbing when his finger barely slipped inside.

Tom left one hand resting on Ben’s lower back as he reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom and the lube, leaning his thigh against Ben’s as he rolled the condom on and slicked himself up. Turning back to Ben he held him open with both hands, fingertips digging into Ben’s sensitive skin as he pried his buttocks apart. Tom gathered up all the saliva he could in his mouth, leaning forward and spitting on Ben’s hole, hands tightening as Ben jerked away from him. 

Tom kept Ben parted with the fingers of one hand while he grasped his cock with the other, dragging the slick head through Ben’s crack, letting the lube mix with the spit. Ben’s breath was ragged. He had to know that Tom would never try to fuck him with just spit, but there was the implication that he might. After a few more moments of teasing Tom lined himself up and started to press in, waiting for Ben’s body to relax and let him in, but Ben lifted his head off his arms and looked back at Tom.

“Wait,” Ben said, his voice quiet but clear. Tom stopped, but didn’t pull away. “Can you use your fingers on me?” Ben cleared his throat. “I need your fingers first.”

Tom pulled away from him but then rested a hand on his back, feeling wrongfooted again. He crouched down next to the bed so he and Ben were eye to eye, trying to think of what he needed to ask. If Shannon had said such a thing to him he would have simply done it, but this was Ben, with an entirely different history and potentially a different set of motives.

“Are you saying that because you really need my fingers first, or because you’re trying to control me a little bit?” Tom watched Ben’s pupils constrict, then widen as he spoke.

“Yes,” Ben said, a tiny smile quirking the corner of his mouth.

“Hmm.” Tom stood up. “You’ll get them. But first, roll onto your back. Put your head here.” Tom patted the edge of the mattress, then stepped back while Ben followed his instructions.

Tom stood at the crown of Ben’s head. Ben had kept his knees bent, flat on the bed, clearly the more comfortable position rather than keeping his legs out straight in front of him. Tom considered telling him to straighten out, but decided to let him stay as he was. He’d be uncomfortable enough soon.

“Open your mouth,” Tom said as he leaned closer. Ben tilted his chin up and opened his mouth, but looked up at Tom, questioning. 

“I’m still on the hook for post,” he reminded Tom.

“I know. This doesn’t have to roughen your voice if you don’t want it to.” Tom put his hand on Ben’s forehead, pushing back and slid the head of his cock into Ben’s open mouth. 

Ben kept his mouth open wide, the corners of his lips stretching as Tom guided his cock along Ben’s tongue. Ben was breathing through his mouth, puffs of warm air against Tom’s cock, but when Tom gently touched the bridge of his nose while adjusting him, Ben took the hint and breathed deeply through his nose, relaxing his throat as he did so. Tom moved forward another fraction of an inch, carefully watching Ben to make sure he wasn’t gagging. On some days that would be an entirely desired effect, but not this time. Tom slid back, then returned to that precise spot, the muscle memory serving him well. Ben’s eyes went from warily watching Tom, to unfocused, to finally drifting shut. Tom held himself as deep in Ben’s mouth as he dared, barely pressing on the softest part of his throat, feeling the pulse in his cock. He finally drew back, cupping the side of Ben’s face and shifting to cup the back of Ben’s head as he stepped away. 

“Good job, sweetheart.” The endearment was out of his mouth before he knew it, and Ben’s head was suddenly heavier in his hand, Ben’s high pitched moan going straight to his cock. 

“Roll yourself over,” Tom said, fighting to keep his voice steady. He reached over and moved the pillow to the head of the bed and Ben followed his lead, turning himself as he rolled onto his stomach. 

Tom sat next to him, leaning against his legs as he liberally coated two of his fingers with lube, rubbing them together trying to warm it up. He reached into Ben’s crack without prying him apart, just as he had in the shower, feeling his way to the ring of muscle. He massaged around it rather than pressing in, circling it in smaller and smaller arcs until his fingertip was all but sucked in. He rested there for a moment, listening to Ben’s hitching breath, knowing that place between empty and full was uncomfortable, but Ben had asked for him to go slow, and Ben was going to get the full measure of that slowness, whether he had intended to or not. 

Finally Tom couldn’t resist, and pushed in until he could go no further, feeling the silky warmth surround him, rocking his hand in a small circle to just barely start to ease Ben open. It felt awkward with just one finger inside and he drew back, pressing against him with a second. 

“Ok?” Tom asked him.

“Yeah, do it,” Ben said, pressing back against him as Tom entered him with his two fingers held together, more at ease with the familiar touch. Tom turned his hand so his palm faced down towards the bed, gently sweeping his fingertips along the slick soft skin until he could hook his fingers over the firm curve of Ben’s prostate. He rested there for a moment, letting his fingers naturally press down as the weight of his arm brought his hand closer to the bed but otherwise not pressing. He twisted his hand as he pulled back, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of flesh that surrounded his fingers, his grasp firm but gentle. Ben’s body was clearly more relaxed, from the deep curve of his back to the elastic feeling of his muscle held between Tom’s thumb and fingers.

Ben felt it too, lifting his head and looking back over his shoulder. “I’m good.”

“I know you are.” Tom reached up and pressed his free hand against the back of Ben’s head, pushing him to look down at the pillow again, playful but not at the same time. Ben huffed a short laugh, saving face, Tom thought. He didn’t want Ben to be able to think that strategically, but without the ability to really give him the sharp, deep sensation on his skin that he craved, it was going to be difficult going.

Tom pulled his fingers free from Ben’s ass, lingering on the pucker of skin that was rapidly settling back even as he watched. He wiped his fingers on the discarded towel, retrieved from over the side of the bed, and rolled a condom on. 

“Lift your hips up,” he said as he reached for the pillow from the other side of the bed. He folded it in half and tucked it under Ben, rubbing his hand along the shaft of his cock as he did. Ben settled in, his arse a little higher than before, the pillow squishing flatter under his weight. 

Tom took his cock in hand and added more lube to himself. Ben hadn’t said whether or not he’d been with anyone else since Tom had seen him, but he guessed not, and while Ben liked to wind him up Tom guessed that his apprehension about being penetrated had been real. Tom pressed the heel of his hand against the curve of Ben’s right cheek, pushing up and away so his cleft was more exposed, leaving room for him to stroke the head of his cock over the slick hole. Ben twisted his hips from side to side, moving minutely, his motions so small that Tom couldn’t really call him on them. Then again, he mused as he continued to stroke himself against Ben’s cleft, it wasn’t as if he’d told Ben to hold still in the first place.

Tom gripped his cock and drew an exaggerated circle around Ben’s hole, pulling away when Ben tried to move in counterpoint to him. 

“Hold still.” Tom was surprised at the depth of his own voice, but Ben responded, his hips sinking back down onto the pillow almost instantly.

Tom balanced himself on his knees, easing closer to Ben, one hand on his arse and the other wrapped around his own cock as he pressed inside. He couldn’t help the high quick sigh that escaped him, holding still as long as he could, savoring the brief moment when the tightest part of Ben was snug against the most sensitive part of his cock. 

Ben’s head was hanging down, the back of his neck and his shoulders sloping down towards the bed where his forehead rested on his folded hands. Tom pressed himself in, feeling Ben’s walls part, holding him tight but slick. As he moved forward he shifted his hand to Ben’s other cheek, holding him open so he could get as close as possible, leaning against the soft warm skin, the globes of Ben’s ass straining apart as Tom rested his weight against them. 

Ben’s neck stayed lax, no tension in his shoulders, even as Tom shifted himself closer. Ben took a slow breath as Tom reached forward, stroking the plane of his lower back, his fingers just glancing over the taut skin over his tailbone. 

“Good boy,” he said, kneading at Ben’s lower back with both hands. Ben shivered, his head dropping even lower.

As Tom fucked him it seemed that Ben was nearly at the point of letting go, letting Tom be in control, but every time Tom let down his guard Ben was twisting against him or shooting a look over his shoulder that made Tom wonder if Ben was ever going to get what he needed. 

Tom pulled back, pausing with his hands on Ben’s hips and his cock just barely in Ben’s arse. Ben held still as Tom let go of his hips, keeping his head down at first, then seemed to sense that he was being tested and looked over his shoulder.

“What?” It was demanding, not pleading, and that more than anything made up Tom’s mind for him.

“You want my cock? Come and get it.” Tom held his gaze as Ben tried to stare him down, still looking at Ben as he leaned forward, trying not to enter any more deeply, walking his hands along the bed next to Ben’s sides. “Here, I’ll even make it easier for you.” Forearms flat on the bed, Tom shifted his weight, sliding his feet back until he was practically hovering over Ben, their only point of contact Tom’s cock in his ass. 

Ben whimpered as he tried to push himself back, but he was too curled up, his folded knees not allowing him any leeway. Ben lifted his arse, pressing himself against Tom as he slowly straightened out his legs, his feet sliding along the sheets, bumping into Tom’s as he found his way. Tom held his breath for a moment, but Ben had it, not letting them slip apart. When Ben lifted his hips, sliding the tight ring of his hole along Tom’s cock, Tom groaned out loud.

“That’s it, you’ve got it Benny.”

Ben still scrambled, his fingers clutching at the sheets as he tried to find a rhythm, too hemmed in by Tom’s body to find a comfortable angle at which to push himself up and back but needing it too badly to stop. 

Tom watched the sheen of sweat spread over Ben’s rapidly reddening shoulders, the strain all too apparent. 

“Difficult, isn’t it?” Tom asked, leaning his head down to speak softly in Ben’s ear. “But you’ll keep doing it because you’re so hungry for my cock. My fingers weren’t in there a minute and you were begging for it weren’t you?”

Ben nodded quickly, only the curls on the very top of his head bouncing as he did, the rest of his hair plastered down with sweat.

Tom moved, bending one knee, then the other as he slid his arms forward, his chest grazing Ben’s back as he moved. Ben gasped like he’d been burned, his head lifting up suddenly. 

“Harder now, Ben, I’m making this easy on you.” Ben was able to push his hips back more violently, their bodies meeting with a muffled thud. Tom pivoted his arms inward, the bunch of muscle pinching the skin on his upper back as he lifted his hands, elbows pressing into the bed as he reached for the back of Ben’s neck. 

“You don’t need it easy, though, do you?” Tom asked, his fingers just pushing into the sweaty skin. He was barely exerting any pressure, but Ben could surely feel the unequal position they were in, the way Tom could close his hands about Ben’s very neck if he wanted too. “You want to be filled with cock so badly you’re willing to work for it.”

Ben whimpered with every breath, driving himself back on Tom’s shaft, each small high pitched sound he made seeming to go straight to Tom’s cock. Tom’s fingers tightened against Ben’s neck, pressing at his spine, palms closing against his pulse on either side. 

Ben’s fast strong heartbeat against his palms finally got Tom to abandon the pretense of remaining in control. He grasped Ben’s hips as he knelt back, then held Ben steady as he pressed them both down to the bed. Tom’s chest was tight against Ben’s back as he gave in to the urge to thrust into him, fast and hard.

Tom grunted as he forced an arm under Ben’s armpit, wrapping around to his other shoulder, clinging to him as he felt himself about to come. Tom dug his fingers in, rolling them partially to one side, giving up some leverage as he reached for Ben’s cock. 

The sensation of Ben totally soft against his hand gave him pause. He pressed his forehead tight against the back of Ben’s shoulder, gritted his teeth, breathing hard as he fought off his orgasm. 

Ben was catching his breath too, his chest heaving under Tom’s arm. 

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“I want you to come too,” Tom said. 

“It’s fine. Come in my ass and then deal with that.” Ben gave a halfhearted thrust into Tom’s hand.

“Not like that.” Tom brought his hand to Ben’s hip, holding him steady steady as he pulled back.

“Not like what, not after you? It’s going to take more than a command voice to do that,” Ben said, still curled on his side as Tom sat back on his heels.

“We can still do better than that.” Tom stood up, feeling the stretch in his calves as his feet hit the floor. He rolled off the condom, tossing it in the wastebasket and pointedly not looking at Ben as he walked to the other bed. Tom threw back the comforter and picked up a pillow, testing it in his hands as he walked back. He plucked another condom from the bedside table, opening it and rolling in on before he stood next to the bed once more. He set the pillow down next to Ben’s hips, and nodded at it.

“Roll over,” Tom said.

Ben twisted to look up at him, but didn’t roll onto his back. “What?”

“Get on your back.” Tom tapped the surface of the pillow, then thought better of it, folding it in half and holding it steady. “Now.” 

Ben stared at him, taking just a moment too long to comply, but then lifted his hips as he rolled onto the pillow. 

“Good,” Tom said, watching Ben’s feet move about on the sheets as he tried to hold himself steady. “Just wait a minute.” Tom took his time slicking up his cock, eyeing Ben’s crease as he stroked himself. 

Tom squeezed more lube into his hand and worked it around, trying to warm it up, then reached for Ben’s cock. Ben closed his eyes, leaned his head back as Tom grasped him, breath stuttering as Tom wanked him gently, his thumb teasing at the gather of skin just under the head. Tom could just barely see Ben’s slit, his foreskin retracting as he swelled. Tom pursed his lips and pressed them to Ben’s cock, tongue tracing the smooth curve as his mouth exposed the full shape of Ben’s sensitive head, sucking as he continued to wank his shaft.

Ben’s cock barely laid against his stomach when Tom let go of him. Tom pressed his fingers against the shaft, rubbing so the other side of Ben’s cock was flush against his skin. 

“Nudge your feet up,” Tom said, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between Ben’s knees. Ben didn’t hesitate, but he lifted his head, craning his neck to keep Tom in his sight.

“It was still really good, even though I wasn’t hard,” Ben said, his voice strained.

“You think I don’t know that?” Tom held him open with the fingers of one hand, guiding his cock with the other. A generous bead of lube was still sitting at the end of his cock and he smeared it over the puffy pink skin surrounding Ben’s hole. “I know it was good. I just wanted you hard.” He fixed Ben with a stare as he pressed against that pink skin, his eyes closing as he slipped in. 

There was a soft thump as Ben’s head hit the pillow, and Tom took that as his cue to surge forward, burying himself in Ben’s body. Ben’s eyes were closed as Tom dropped to his forearms, easing himself up to lie nearly shoulder to shoulder with Ben, his belly grazing Ben’s cock every time he moved. Tom reached up to gently hold Ben’s face, fingers scrubbing through his damp hair.

Letting gravity take him even further, Tom eased more of his weight onto Ben, relishing the hot slick slide of Ben’s cock between them. 

“Benny, look at me.” Tom touched his forehead to Ben’s, then lifted up, leaving enough room for both of them to focus. “Look at me.” Every word was punctuated with a deep thrust, Ben’s body inching up the mattress. Finally Ben opened his eyes, his gaze darting madly for a moment before he locked onto Tom. 

“Good boy,” Tom said softly. “I just want you to remember who’s fucking your ass.”

Ben whimpered but didn’t reply, and that was enough to push Tom closer, pressure winding him up tight as he felt like tumbling forward.

Pushing himself up on his hands robbed him of the sensation of Ben’s cock against his belly, the line of slick rapidly cooling. Tom kept his eyes locked on Ben as they both adjusted to the new angle, took his hand and grasped Ben’s cock, now taut and hard against his palm. 

The tight hot skin felt too dry to properly slide against, so Tom reached up to grasp the bottle of lube, pressing himself deeper into Ben as he did. He watched as Ben’s eyes fluttered shut, smiling to himself as Ben clearly forced himself to open his eyes just a moment later, his gaze still trained on Tom.

Tom’s newly slick hand wrapped around Ben’s cock, thumb finding his sweet spot almost instantly. Ben bit his lip, nostrils flaring as his breath started to match both the rhythm of Tom’s hand and the movement of Tom’s cock inside him. When Tom pressed harder against the tender gather of skin under Ben’s head he groaned out loud as Ben clenched around him.

“Fuck, Ben, you’re too sweet,” Tom groaned, holding still, not ready to be done with him yet. Ben looked pushed to the edge but not nearly as broken as Tom had been hoping for. Tom held himself steady as he looked down at Ben, the urge to feel him, to really feel him with nothing between them, overwhelming suddenly.

Tom let go of Ben’s cock as he pulled away, pressing on the back of Ben’s thighs to lift him so he could watch his cock slide out of Ben’s ass, pausing as Ben stretched around the widest part of him for just a second before Tom popped out, Ben’s hole still a perfect circle, the muscles under the soft skin of his taint flexing as if his body was looking for something as he closed up. 

Even when Tom took his hands away from Ben’s thighs Ben kept his legs up, his entire ass on display for Tom, balls drawn up tight against the base of his cock. Tom brushed his knuckles over the soft skin underneath, bumping over his hole all the way down to the skin stretched tight over his tailbone. He looked up to find Ben still watching him, his neck craned forward. 

“That won’t do,” Tom said softly. He stood up, walking over to the opposite side of the other bed and taking the pillow round to Ben. He eased his hand under Ben’s shoulders, and slid the pillow in so he was tilted up, no more straining. Tom stripped off his condom as he stood next to Ben, watching Ben’s eyes widen as he threw it into the bin, then climbed back up onto the bed without taking another from the box on the nightstand. 

“I really need to feel you Benny.” He watched the mix of fear and fascination on Ben’s face, Ben’s eyes tightening just at the outer corners as he kept watching Tom. Tom knelt up and pressed his thighs to the curve of Ben’s ass, leaned forward with his cock held loosely in his hand and reached for the bottle of lube, slicking himself until he was nearly dripping. Ben’s breath was ragged, his mouth open as he panted, gasping as Tom ran his slick head up the length of Ben’s shaft.

Tom held the base of his cock, smearing lube along Ben’s shaft, catching the tender gather of skin against his slit, then messily slapping against him as Ben hardened again. He gathered Ben up in his grasp, holding them both tightly wrapped in his fingers, holding on to Ben’s thigh with his other hand.

“What did you think I meant, Benny?” Tom grinned as he thrust against both his own hand and Ben’s cock, any attempt Ben might have made to answer swallowed by his moan as Tom began to move.

After a few thrusts it was apparent that while the lube was more than doing its job at keeping Ben comfortable, his half closed eyes and deep open mouthed breaths evidence of that, it was also making it difficult to hold them both in one hand.

“Reach for me with your right hand,” Tom said. At times like these, Ben needed commands that were simple and direct. Even so he took a moment, his brow furrowing a bit as he lifted his right hand from where he’d been clutching the sheet, his hand reaching slowly for Tom’s chest.

Tom reached up with his left hand and guided him, bringing his palm alongside their joined cocks, pressing him close so they were almost meeting in a handshake, holding eachother tight between their palms. Tom twisted his wrist so he could lock his thumb over Ben’s, stroking his skin as Ben tightened his fingers. 

“That’s perfect,” Tom said, no need to fake or even enhance the tone of satisfied approval. It was perfect, the sweet simplicity of them holding hands combined with the hot urgent slide of their cocks together. 

Tom let his eyes close for a moment, feeling the heat and pressure build inside his balls, only heightened by the way he could feel himself brushing against Ben’s sac, their sweat making skin sticky as they both kept working towards their release. 

When he opened his eyes he saw that Ben had let his close, his head tilted back, cords of his neck showing, even the top of his pecs at his collar bone standing out. 

“Let go for me, Benny,” Tom said, sliding his hand from Ben’s thigh down to his ass, sliding along the accumulated lube at his crack and finding his hole. He barely slipped inside as Ben’s back arched, the first spurt of come making his cock jerk against Tom’s, setting him off.

“Oh, you fucking beauty,” Tom ground out as Ben clenched around his finger, balls twitching under Tom’s own. Tom came with a shout, striping come over Ben’s chest. As they both settled Tom wasn’t sure whose come was dribbling over their combined fingers. 

He carefully let go of them, sure that Ben was as sensitive as he was. Most of the come had wound up either on Ben’s chest or Tom’s fingers, and he eased his left hand away from Ben’s ass as he reached up with his right.

“Shame none of it landed on your face,” he said. Ben didn’t even offer a token resistance as Tom smeared their combined spunk on his face, lingering at his lips until Ben lapped at his fingers.

“Good boy,” Tom said, smiling as he felt Ben shiver. He set his hands to either side of Ben’s shoulders and eased himself down, lying next to Ben. 

Ben wrinkled his nose as Tom brushed his hair off his forehead. “Come on,” he muttered, but there was no heat to it.

“Come on your hair? Yes there is,” Tom said, pleased with his little joke. 

Ben snickered, rolling towards him, reaching up to hold on to the back of his neck. Tom reached up to caress the inside of Ben’s wrist, nearly had to truly bite his tongue when he realized he’d been about to tell him _I love you._ Instead he closed his eyes for a moment, holding that feeling close, trying not to think about what would have happened if he’d let it out. 

Ben grew heavy against him, his head resting on Tom’s shoulder. Stroking down the middle of his back Tom felt the sweat cooling in the furrow of Ben’s spine. He pulled the crumpled comforter over both of them, dangerously close to sleep himself. 

“We can’t fall asleep,” he managed a few moments later.

“Why not?” Ben’s voice was just the right side of roughly indistinct and Tom felt a flush of pride at that.

“You’re only here for a couple of days. You’re going to be fucked up enough as it is. We have to get up so we’re not up half the night.”

“Who cares if we are?” Ben picked his head up at his own question, then set it down again, still relaxed but with an alertness to him that hadn’t been there before. “Oh. I forgot.”

Tom kept rubbing his back. “Even if I didn’t have to go in tomorrow I can’t really see letting you flip my days and nights around.”

“Fair enough.” Ben sighed deeply and rolled over, moving away from him but then immediately taking his hand, rubbing his thumb against the side of Tom’s. “I am hungry, actually.”

“Me too.” Tom reluctantly let go of Ben’s hand and sat up, turning to look at him. “I don’t think there’s anything for you right now other than another shower.”

Ben gave him a lopsided smile, holding his hand out. “Help me up, then.”

Ben was entirely pliant in the shower this time around, letting Tom turn him back and forth, washing him. Tom stayed mostly out of the spray, a bit chilled by the time Ben was clean, but warming quickly in the steamy bathroom.

“Are you going to eat the food you brought from the flat?” Ben asked as he wrapped up in the towel. 

“Maybe. There’s not enough for both of us, anyway.” Tom left the door open as he went into the room to find a pair of pants for each of them. “Should we order something to eat in the room? I’m not sure I can stand the temptation of a restaurant.”

“I’m not sure I can stay polite for long enough,” Ben said, trailing after him, accepting the pants that Tom handed him. 

“I’ll get some food in, then,” Tom said. He watched warily as Ben pulled the covers down on the untouched bed and threw himself onto the sheets. Tom ordered from one of the few places he knew would do truly plain grilled chicken and veg, ordering a quantity, if not a variety, of food he knew would satisfy them. 

Ben rolled himself up off the bed and stretched, walking to the tall windows at the other side of the room. He pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms before he opened the curtains, humming his approval as he realized that there was a small balcony looking over the trees at the back of the hotel.

“Did you book us a non-smoking room?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, I can’t stand the smell of the smoke on the carpets in these places,” Tom said. “You can smoke on the balcony though, I checked.”

Ben nodded slowly. “I’m trying to quit, as always, but I can either stay thin or stay quit from cigs, I can’t do both.”

“No need to justify yourself to me,” Tom said. “We’ve all got our vices.”

“Some fewer than others,” Ben said as he went to his bag, retrieving the cigarettes and lighter. 

“I’ll come out with you if you like,” Tom said. “They’ll ring us when the food comes.”

“Good.” Ben threw on a heavy sweatshirt and Tom did the same, following him to the narrow concrete balcony.

There were two heavy white plastic chairs angled towards each other. Tom sat down in one while Ben leaned on the ledge, looking down at the trees as he lit the cigarette. 

“Why were you in Chicago today?” Tom asked, realizing how little he knew of what was going on in Ben’s life. “Are you working in LA right now?”

Ben shook his head. “I flew from London, but it isn’t half easy getting to Pittsburgh. There’s no direct flight. The best I could do was fly into Chicago and then to Pittsburgh.” He shrugged. “It’s better than flying to LA for the weekend, though.”

“I couldn’t have asked you to do that,” Tom said. 

“I would have asked you to let me.” Ben flicked his ash into the air and Tom bit back his immediate comment about how he should be using the ashtray-- this high up it was sure to just turn to dust by the time it settled anywhere. 

“Well. Hopefully we don’t have to find out for some time.” Tom let his head fall back, the cool evening air contrasting with the warmth inside the lined sweatshirt. It was almost enough to make him feel sleepy despite the uncomfortable chair. 

“That food you had from your flat,” Ben said. “Do you mind if I eat some of it?”

“Not at all.” Tom stood up, stretching for a moment before going inside. The box was where he’d left it on the mini fridge, but there were no utensils with it. He brought the box out to Ben. 

“There’s no fork or anything,” he said as he opened it, setting it by Ben’s elbow. “The pieces are pretty big though.”

“Thanks.” Ben reached in and took out a piece of chicken, as white and bland looking as ever. Tom took one as well, chewing thoughtfully.

“Joel said it was less rubbery than usual but I think he might have been delirious,” Tom said. He plucked out a piece of broccoli. No use wasting food, and at least the veggies were usually cooked well.

“This eating to live shit really starts to wear on me,” Ben said. “I get that it’s for work, but it’s like, I’ve got work home with me every second, everywhere I go.” He took another piece of chicken. “I don’t like to complain, because I know there are people who have it far worse, but in the moment, it sucks.”

“No argument there.” Tom leaned against him and they picked away at the food until the container was empty. 

Ben was washing his hands when the food came. Tom paid the delivery guy and set the bag of food on the desk, the closest the room had to a proper table. He took the armchair, leaving the desk chair for Ben. 

Ben opened the bag, taking out the containers when he sighed. “Oh fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Tom stood up to peer into the bag as well. “Oh,” he said, when he saw the smaller bag full of bread. “I told them not to put that in.”

“I suppose they couldn’t help themselves,” Ben said, lifting out one of the rolls. It was brown, with a shiny seeded crust, doing a reasonable impression of a wholesome homemade bread. 

“I can smell the sugar from here,” Tom said. He wasn’t lying; despite looking like a wholemeal roll they were fairly well known for being very sweet, for table bread.

“I don’t even want it but if it stays here I’m going to eat it,” Ben said, dropping it back in the bag. He glanced at the balcony. “Want to see how aerodynamic they are?”

“Might as well make some raccoon’s day,” Tom said. 

Ben tried to step into his first throw, but the small space of the balcony turned what might have been a credible attempt into a stumble. Even so, they heard the sound of the roll bouncing off the leaves of a tree below as it flew into the woods. Tom fared a little better, the arc of his thow carrying the roll deeper into the woods.

“What are the chances we’re feeding anything but rats?” Ben tried to imitate Tom’s stance, almost matching his distance.

“Possums, skunks. Maybe a squirrel.” Tom took the second to last roll from the bag and sized up his strategy for his last throw. He edged himself into the corner of the balcony and managed a short jogging start before launching it. He stood back, pleased with the result.

Ben tossed the last roll up into the air, catching it in his hand, eyeing the woods beyond the hotel thoughtfully. 

“There’s no way you make that go further than mine,” Tom said. 

“I feel like maybe I could though.” Ben smirked at him. “What’ll you give me?”

Tom shrugged. “Name anything, because it’s not happening.” He stretched and leaned against the edge of the balcony surround. 

The roll flipped end over end as Ben kept playing with it. “I fuck you, you’re on your face, and you don’t give me instructions.”

Tom ran his hand over his chin, thinking. “I can’t give you instructions, like, even if you’re hurting me?”

“You know what I mean. No topping me from the bottom.” Ben was squeezing the roll, possibly modifying it for better aerodynamics, Tom thought.

“This little fantasy of yours, are you proposing that I submit to you?” Tom almost held his breath. Ben asking for that would be a new development, and not one he was sure how to handle.

“No, I’m not asking for a scene. Just that you let me fuck you without trying to control my every move.” Ben tossed the roll in the air again, looking thoughtful. Definitely trying to hedge his bets, then, with the change in its shape. 

“Yeah alright,” Tom said. “I might even give that a try some time regardless.”

“If I win though, can we do it tonight?” Ben’s eyebrows were raised, clearly hopeful.

Tom smiled, thinking of how if the tables were turned he would have _told_ Ben it was tonight. 

“Yes,” Tom said. “May as well make it interesting.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back, watching Ben edge over to the furthest side of the balcony. Pausing, Ben reached back and opened the door to the room as wide as it would go, then took two big steps back onto the carpet. When he moved back onto the balcony his arm swung in a high arc as he took two long running strides towards the railing, his waist bending as he hit it just as his hand let go of the roll. They both watched as it sailed straight down the path of the back parking lot, the rustle of it hitting the trees at the far end barely audible. 

“I’d say that was further than ever before,” Ben said, turning to him.

“Not exactly into the woods, though,” Tom pointed out.

“We never said it had to be, for one, and it did make it to the trees, after all.” Ben looked smug, knowing he’d won.

“I concede,” Tom said. “Now let’s eat before I fucking die.”

Dinner was slightly more flavorful than the usual fare, and if it was because there was more salt and oil on both chicken and veg than was called for, neither of them mentioned it. Tom couldn’t help but smile as he felt Ben running his foot up the inside of his leg.

“Keen, Ben?” he asked.

“A bit, yeah. I mean, you’re the one who said I shouldn’t let you just fall asleep this afternoon.”

“Can’t think of anything else we could do?” Tom asked. “I think Jeopardy’s on soon.”

Ben shrugged. “If you like.”

Tom let him sit with that for a moment then stood up. “Nah. Just give me a few minutes, ok?”

“Ok.”

Tom took his time in the bathroom, happy to hear the television turn on after he’d been there only a moment. He chuckled to himself when he heard the opening music for Jeopardy-- he’d only been kidding when he’d teased Ben, but it seemed he’d been right on. 

He found himself in the shower after a time, aware that it was a little over the top considering he’d just had a shower, but unable to banish the unease that he would somehow be disgusting or not clean enough for Ben. As he washed himself he let his fingertips catch against his rim, gently pressing against his hole until he slipped in. The sting was partly down to the soap coating his fingers, at least he hoped, and faded as he pressed in, one foot up on the faucet. He cringed as he imagined himself, bent forward and crouched down like a goblin, then shook his head. Had he found Ben in that same position it would have ignited nothing but a predatory desire in him, but as for himself he felt self conscious, muscle bound and awkward. 

He rinsed his hands off and then bent forward, as much to stretch his tight hamstrings as to wash the soap out of his crease. He stood and gave himself a final rinse, wondering if Ben had gotten wrapped up in Jeopardy as he tended to do.

“How are you doing?” Tom asked as he walked into the main part of the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. “Ready to give up on acting and embrace the quiz show circuit?”

“Not quite,” Ben said, sounding genuinely peeved. “It’s all been American sports and literature.”

“All of it?” Tom teased. “How rude of them to feature American sport.”

“I agree.” Ben turned the television off as he stood up. He’d changed into a soft pair of grey track bottoms, his chest bare. “Are you all dried off?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, confused by the question. He’d wiped himself down before wrapping the towel around his waist, but Ben didn’t look convinced.

Ben stood in front of him and tugged the towel free, bringing the upper edge to Tom’s chest and rubbing it firmly over his clavicle, then down and back up into his armpits, down to the soft folds of his elbows. Ben gave the same careful attention to the crease at the join of each pelvis and thigh, then reached back and gently chafed the towel over his sac, holding it in one hand as he reached back to dry his taint, pushing the towel to the ground as he finished.

“There,” Ben said. “Now you’re dry.”

Tom felt the difference, his skin feeling pleasantly soft instead of clammy. “Thanks.”

Ben held him gently by the wrist as he led him to the turned down bed, his hand shifting up to the back of Tom’s neck as they stood by the edge. “Face down to start, if you don’t mind,” Ben said.

Tom nodded, climbing onto the bed. He’d thought Ben would have taken a different approach, had been looking forward to making out with him sat on the edge of the bed for a while, but he’d promised that he’d go along with what Ben wanted and it wasn’t as though he truly objected.

Tom settled in, the side of his face resting on his right arm, the left stretched out towards the headboard. He heard Ben rustling around and then felt him settle, knees to either side of his hips, fingertips touching the middle of his back as Ben steadied himself. Tom could feel the soft fabric of Ben’s trousers and relaxed.

Ben’s knees tightened against him as he leaned out towards the side of the bed, righting himself as he flipped open the cap on a plastic bottle, the noise immediately recognizable. A moment later he set the bottle down by Tom’s hip. Tom turned his head as much as he could without lifting it, but couldn’t quite see.

“What is that?” he asked. The thought that Ben might have brought some kind of oil was potentially intriguing if not a little concerning considering that he was going to be handling a condom shortly. 

“It’s just lube,” Ben said, shifting against him. “I haven’t got anything else with me. But it’s really nice lube.” 

The sincere apology combined with the confidence about the niceness of this lube struck Tom as funny and he lifted his head, still not quite able to look back at Ben.

“Is that how you’re going to romance me,” he asked. “Just, really nice lube?”

“Only the finest lube,” Ben said. “Truly quality lube.”

“Luxury lube,” Tom said, setting his head down, a giggle rising up in his throat. 

“Imported lube,” Ben intoned seriously, clamping his knees tight against Tom’s hips as Tom laughed. He leaned forward and set his hands on Tom’s shoulders, grasping tight before sweeping his thumbs along the muscle, then rubbing down over his shoulder blades before grasping and kneading there too. 

Tom sighed, relaxing into the touch. Ben’s hands were firm, but not painful, with just the right amount of friction leaving him a little warmer everywhere Ben touched. Ben’s hands seemed to glide over his back, fingers and the heels of his hands moving easily as he soothed the sore muscles. It was several minutes later that Ben had to take his hands away and Tom heard the clicking top of the bottle again.

“That is actually really nice lube,” Tom said. 

“I told you.” Ben paused with his hands on Tom’s sides, and Tom was sure he was about to get pinched, but Ben just kept kneading at him, finding all the sore places that felt better for being pressed on. 

Tom closed his eyes when Ben swept his hands over his ass, pressing the edges of his hands against the join of each buttock and thigh, then working his way back up. It wasn’t that Ben’s touch made him nervous, but there was something about a touch there, no matter how anticipated, that had him tense for at least a moment.

“Alright?” Ben asked, pressing hard against the muscle over his sit bones. Ben hit a particularly sensitive spot and Tom groaned out loud.

“I’m good. Keep going.” Apparently the spot was obvious enough that Ben was working his way around the tense muscle without further prompting. “Fuck that’s good.”

Ben worked in silence for a few more moments, his hands understandably tiring after a while. “Do they have someone with actual credentials looking after you?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. A couple of the trainers do massage, one of the physio guys does. I’m alright Benny.”

“Good.” Ben rested a hand against the curve of each buttock, letting his own body heat gently sink in. “Sorry, I got a little distracted there.”

“It’s alright. Much appreciated.” Tom took a deep breath and tried to relax out all the places that had tensed up when Ben had worked him over, then looked at Ben over his shoulder. “Pray continue.” 

Ben didn’t move. “With which?”

“I believe the terms of our bet were that I not give you instruction, but just to remind you, I believe you were working up to fucking me in the ass?” 

“Just wanted to be sure.” Ben caressed his skin, running the back of his fingers back and forth until Tom’s skin felt almost as hot as if he’d been slapped. Just as it became too much of a tease to be pleasurable, Ben changed direction, his fingers pressing along Tom’s cleft, pulling him apart gently for a moment before moving away. Tom heard the cap on the lube again and then Ben was back, slick fingers lazily circling his hole and then pressing, not in, but against him, reaching down to the soft skin just behind his balls and then back up, steady but not insistent. 

Tom kept his eyes closed, drifting pleasantly as Ben played with him. When Ben finally did press inside Tom couldn’t help but gasp at the first hot sudden stretch, groaning as it faded into a pleasant warmth. 

Ben wasted no time adding a second finger, laughing softly as Tom pressed back against him.

“Easy, Tom,” he said, rocking them back and forth as he settled in deeper. 

Tom felt his jaw drop as Ben gently curled his fingers back and forth. His blood felt thick, everything heavy and pleasantly slow as he got used to the feeling of Ben touching him inside. It was still surprising, even after years of Ben having that particular privilege, that such a touch would make him feel relaxed and sleepy instead of on edge.

“Forgot how good this feels,” he mumbled, fairly sure that Ben would be able to understand him.

Ben rested one hand firmly on his hip and pulled his fingers out, twisting at the last moment just right, painless and smooth. Tom could hear the raspy sound of Ben wiping his hand, then felt Ben caressing his other hip as well.

“Turn over,” Ben said, pressing just so to imply what he wanted, but not actually pushing him.

Tom lifted his head, thinking. It wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he had promised not to question Ben, so he rolled over. Ben knelt between Tom’s knees, looking down at him, rubbing his hands up and down Tom’s thighs. 

“Comfortable?” Ben asked. 

“Yeah.” Tom blinked slowly, savoring the feeling of not having to move, letting Ben come to him. When he heard the sound of the condom wrapper opening, he knew he’d actually dozed off. 

“You still with me?” Ben asked as he rolled the condom on. 

“Yeah. Just got a bit too comfortable I guess.” 

Ben’s smile was so fond that Tom felt warm all over from it, sure that his skin had to be turning pink. 

“I’d make a bad joke about how that won’t be the case for long but I don’t actually want to hurt you.” 

“Don’t think you will,” Tom said, still feeling relaxed all over.

“Ok,” Ben said, more to himself than to Tom, kneeling in front of him again. The pressure of Ben’s cock against him felt like a friendly nudge, and Tom rocked his hips closer, nudging back. Ben walked his hands forward, resting his forehead on Tom’s chest as he pressed inside, holding himself still as Tom reached up to touch his back.

The knobs of Ben’s spine were more prominent than usual, but Tom didn’t think about that for more than a moment as he spread his fingers over Ben’s back, sliding up to the back of his neck, scrubbing against the damp curls there as Ben lifted his head, his hips moving back, then steadily forward again. 

“You feel so good,” Tom groaned, lost in the feeling of Ben fucking him.

“Wish I could fill you up the way you do to me,” Ben said, pressing against him hard, his sac sticking to Tom’s soft, sweaty skin for a moment. 

“I’m plenty full right now,” Tom said, gently pulling Ben down for a kiss. 

When he reached for himself it was subconscious, his hand wrapped around his cock before he’d even thought of it. He looked up at Ben, who smiled at him.

“Going to help me out, Tom?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind.” Tom pulled at himself with the same rhythm Ben was moving to. 

“Not at all.” 

They didn’t speak again. Tom’s eyes closed, his lids heavy as he let Ben set the pace. When the warmth inside him started to peak it took him by surprise, a loud groan exploding from his throat.

“Ben,” he said, his hand faltering as he tried to hold back.

“Go on,” Ben said, his voice rough. “I want to feel you come.”

Tom threw his head back, his spine stretched straight as his orgasm rushed through him, holding his breath until he felt the warmth of his own come striping along his stomach. He let go of himself, letting his cock lie against his belly as he reached up with both hands to hold onto Ben’s shoulders.

Ben’s eyes were screwed shut, then flew open as he came with a sharp shout, leaning down and pressing his forehead to Tom’s shoulder. 

Tom held still as Ben slowly lowered himself, the pressure against his shoulder decreasing gradually as Ben settled. 

“Alright Benny?” Tom asked, rubbing his hand up and down Ben’s back. Between them Tom’s cock was a sensitive sticky place against his belly, but bearable, for now. 

“Better than alright.” Ben turned his head, kissing Tom’s temple, then pushed himself up to give him a proper kiss, sighing as they parted. “I don’t want to, but I suppose I should move.”

“Guessing so.” Tom tilted his hips, trying to be helpful, but the surprised laugh from Ben made him think he’d been anything but helpful for all that. 

Ben rolled away from him, then stood up and walked awkwardly to the bathroom, his hand cupped over his cock. Tom stretched, hands over his head as he took up as much of the bed as he could, waiting for Ben’s return. 

Ben took in Tom’s sprawl for a moment, then turned on his heel and fell into the other bed, giggling as he pulled the covers over himself. 

“Oh, nicely done, Ben,” Tom said, standing up. As much as he wanted to simply fall into the other bed he dragged his feet into the washroom for a quick clean up. 

“If you’re going to be a bed hog,” Ben said, budging over as Tom got in between the cool sheets. 

“Fair enough.” Tom lied on his side, facing Ben, his hand resting on Ben’s forearm. They were both still too hot for anything closer. Tom closed his eyes, feeling that peculiar heat that settled over him after such a coupling. Not really a matter of temperature, it was a feeling that he needed more air around him than flesh, for at least a few moments. 

Ben turned his arm so his hand was lying over Tom’s arm. “Going to sleep, Tom?” Ben asked.

“Not quite yet.” Tom found himself eye to eye with Ben for the second time that day. “That was,” he paused, not sure Ben would want or accept a comment on his “performance,” but it wasn’t as though that was their norm. “That was really nicely done.”

“Thanks.” Ben’s smile was genuine. “My pleasure.” The color in his cheeks got deeper, even the bridge of his nose pinking up. 

Tom reached out and pushed a lock of hair off Ben’s forehead, not wanting to miss a moment of that adorable blush. “I love you.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even thought them, but there was no regret following. It was simply out there.

Ben reached up for his hand, grasping his wrist and pulling it down between them so there was nothing between them blocking his view. 

“I love you too,” Ben said, holding his hand. 

Tom just held on, not sure of what to say next.

“So, what do we do?” Ben asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not just in this for a good time. I love you. Does that change anything?”

Tom tried to keep his breathing steady even as he felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“Does it?” Tom asked. Ben held still, looking at him steadily. “Do you want me to be your one and only?”

Ben swallowed hard. “No.”

Tom released the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Then what’s to change?”

“Nothing, I guess.” Ben loosened his grip on Tom’s hand but didn’t drop his gaze.

“I didn’t think either of us were just in this for a good time,” Tom said. “Maybe at the beginning, but not now. Not for some time.”

“True.” Ben inched closer. “I guess, I’m just glad you know.”

“Glad we both know,” Tom said, closing the distance between them to kiss him, deep and slow.

Ben turned away from him as they parted, but moved closer, his bum snug against Tom’s thighs.

“Is that you ready for bed then?” Tom asked.

“I’m jet lagged and all,” Ben said, yawning. He took Tom’s hand and tucked his arm tight around his waist. “If I fall asleep, so be it.”

Tom had only just barely thought of attempting to get out of bed and to the washroom to brush his teeth when Ben’s breath changed, deep and even, the barest hint of a snore every third breath or so. He sighed and resigned himself to holding still for a bit, more relieved at Ben’s ease than annoyed by his precipitous descent into sleep. 

The need to set an alarm was the only thing that forced Tom out of bed, moving carefully. Once he’d put everything in order for the morning he climbed back in next to Ben, lying back to back with him, knowing that one or the other of them would roll over at some point in the night. He tried to focus only on the warmth of Ben’s back and the soothing rhythm of his breath, but he kept thinking ahead, to the next day, and beyond that, to when they were both back in London. The future seemed entirely nebulous, but somehow hopeful, and he let himself lean towards that sense of hope as he fell asleep.


End file.
